Hanley
by j7r3l
Summary: Not very divergent like, but sort of. Four segments- Cura; the pure.  Fortis; the daring. Acer; the intelligent. Decor; the beautiful.  One from each are chosen to fight to the death to be the prince's wife.  better than it sounds, promise! please read;


"Hanley Williams," my name is called out, loud and clear across the quad. The blonde looks out over the crowd, her gray eyes searching me out.  
>My eyes go wide. No. Not me. This was a mistake. I couldn't be chosen.<br>She spots me, recognizing the curly hair, "Hanley? Hanley Williams? Come up here please, dear." I don't move. I would not go up on that stage.  
>Two men in black; the snatchers, as we'd nicknamed them, stepped up to my sides, each of them wrapping an arm around mine.<br>"No!" I dig my heels in the dirt, my eyes going back to my little sister. She looks up at me with wide blue eyes, her hands still clutching my shirt, her curly hair falling into her face as she struggles to hold on. The snatchers jerk me away from her and march me up to the stage. I fight against them but it's no use. They nudge me up the steps and turn their backs, expecting me to walk the rest of the way up.  
>The blonde sees me looking for escape and grabs me by the arm, tugging me up to the middle of the stage with a tight-lipped smile.<br>"Let's have a round of applause for our princess from Cura!" she's the only one who claps.  
>The many faces of Cura, both young and old stare back at me with identical hair styles and the same dull blue skirts, their eyes sympathetic.<br>They knew what I'd have to go through. The competition I would have.  
>I find my mother's eyes in the crowd, just before I'm pulled away; blue to green. She's clutching my little sister, eyes wide and full of grief. She's just lost her oldest daughter.<br>I'm shoved into a train compartment, the door slamming shut behind me like the end of a sentence. I'm left with nothing but the ringing in my ears for company.  
>I lean back against a wall and put my head in my hands. This tradition had been going on since Europe was flooded and several countries grew to be connected. The countries had a war over who would be ruler of the land; a man named Adam Rexus was chosen. He made up the segments, as we call them.<br>There was my segment; Cura. We were pure, never allowed to look in a mirror or show public signs of affection. All of us had identical dull blue skirts and wore our hair in identical ponytails. Then there was Fortis; the brave and daring. They were good with weapons and trained from birth to be the ultimate killing machines. They all got tattoos, something the people in Cura saw as a sign of impurity, and often wore revealing clothes. Known for their sarcasm and fiery nature, they were both frowned upon and revered by the other segments.  
>Next there was Acer; the intelligent. Almost all of them wore glasses from reading and staring at a computer too often. They were prized for knowing everything and anything, from history books to everyday living. Almost all of them had gray eyes and were required by law to wear skirts of a similar color.<br>Last there was Decor; the beautiful. They had flawless bodies and perfectly curled hair; never a chipped nail or a split end. They had mirrors in every room, on every wall, so they could admire their own beauty, something banned in the segment I'd come from. They never fought, always spoke with dignity and grace. I've never once seen them show their flaws, if they even had any.  
>King Rexus chose one woman from each of the segments and gave them a mentor to prepare them to be his wife and future queen. He would spend an hour a day with each of them for a week, deciding which one had the most desirable traits. At the end of the week the four women fought to the death in an arena while he watched behind a screen. The one that came out alive would be his wife.<br>Now it was his descendent; Prince Rexus, on his own search to find a bride.  
>I knew for a fact I would lose. In the end it would be between Fortis and Acer, for both of them were far more dangerous than I could ever hope to be.<br>Just then the door swings open and in walks two people, a dangerous looking man only around six years older than me with tattoos up his arms and a woman in a dress, her hair piled on top of her head in an elaborate style.  
>The man looks down at me, curled up on the floor and sneers, "Great. We get this one."<br>The woman shoots him a look and out stretches her hand to me, "Get up, girl, we musn't have you on the ground like that."  
>I stand, ignoring the hand offered to help me.<br>She glances away and pulls her hand back, casually smoothing down her skirts. The man laughs and winks at me, happy I'd showed her up.  
>"So, lemme guess. You're here to make me look pretty," I look at the girl, then shift my gaze to the guy, "And you're here to teach me how to kill the others."<br>The girls eyes are hard, "I'm here to make you look presentable," her eyes glance me up and down in disapproval, "And to help you make an impression on Prince Rexus."  
>I look to the man, eyes hard, "And you?"<br>He shrugs, "Yeah I'm pretty much doin' what you said. Helpin' you kill the others. I'll be training you this whole week."  
>I nod, accepting.<br>He looks at me for a long moment, "Who was that girl? The one you didn't want to leave?"  
>I look up at him sharply, meeting his eyes, "My sister," I avert my gaze and clear my throat, trying to get the lump out of my throat.<br>"Oh your sister will be fine by herself, I'm sure," the woman says. I get the feeling she actually believes it. I meet the mans eyes across her shoulder and understanding flickers in his eyes. He knew why I hadn't wanted to leave her. The snatchers came into your homes at night and more often than not, raped your daughters or you. If you didn't have a husband, it'd be you or your daughter. One came for my sister one night. I'd convinced him to take me instead; suddenly another snatcher burst in and pulled him off me. He dragged him outside and beat him to a bloody pulp, leaving him for dead out in the yard.  
>The other snatcher met my eyes through the window and then he was gone; I still have no idea who it was. I was just grateful Rose and I hadn't been raped. No one came in the night again. Sometimes I would see that snatcher, sitting against the side of the house with a gun in his hand, protecting us.<br>I just hoped he would still be there for my sister.  
>I wandered if the snatchers only did this in Fortis and Cura. I had the distinct feeling the only thing they'd done in Fortis was try; there were too many, too strong. They wouldn't let the snatchers come near any of them.<br>Longing pulls at my gut. If only I'd grown up in Fortis.  
>"Listen to me," the man puts his hands on either side of my face, "You will win. I swear it."<br>I look up, meeting his eyes. His eyes are brown and this close I can see he has green flecks in towards the pupil. They study my face, "And if you dont?" I can barely choke the words out.  
>"If you don't win, I promise, I will get you back to your sister," his gaze is earnest. I wonder if he has a sister back home. He drops his hands from either side of my face and we both turn to see the woman looking at us like we're insane.<br>"Well then," she claps her hands together, "Now that you've had your little moment," something like jealousy shines clear in her voice, surprising me. The girl from Decor, in love with a man from Fortis,"My name is Izzy," she lifts her chin as if daring me to laugh at the ridiculous name, "And this is Max."  
>I nod once, "Hanley."<br>"What?" she asks, confused.  
>"My name?" I raise an eyebrow, "I'm Hanley."<br>She shakes her head and mumbles something like, "The names in Cura." she rolls her eyes.  
>I raise my eyebrows and open my mouth to say someting about 'Izzy' but Max cuts me off, "I think it's a pretty name." he's looking at me with smiling eyes.<br>I don't know what to say to that; the affection in his words, so I just look down at the ground, my lips twitching into a smile.  
>Izzy grounds her teeth together loudly, making my smile grow.<br>Maybe this training would be more fun than I'd thought. 


End file.
